The Durin's Day Files
by Snapdragonroar
Summary: I.S.T.A.R.I. [Ithryn Strategic Tactics and Reconnaissance Initiative] A collection of Agent Gandalf the Grey's field reports during the events of the Quest for Erebor and the Battle of the Five Armies, regarding the events from the Carrock to the awakening of Smaug the Terrible. The second part of Field Reports from Agent Gandalf: Operation Dragon.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: None of this is mine. All rights belong to the great J.R.R. Tolkien and Peter Jackson.**

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_The following reports are extracted from the TA 2941 files._

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**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: Halfway Down the Carrock**

**Date: August 19th, TA 2941**

The useful thing about Hobbits, of course, is their size. A Hobbit, Saruman, is on average three and a half feet. Many of the Big People (for so they call Men and Elves) mistake them for children. Most of the races (including Dwarves, who really ought to know better!) tend to overlook them. They believe that Hobbits are inconsequential.

Which is entirely wrong. Hobbits may not be grand heroes of myth and legend, but they've used their small size and unassuming appearance for centuries to avoid all sorts of dangers. They are the cleverest little survivors you could ever meet. Why should they be warriors or conquerors, when the world is happy enough to leave them in their peaceful little homes? Their small stature is a marvelous thing, and something they should thank the Valar for.

\- is what I told Bilbo.

All that got me was a huff and a raised eyebrow.

"That does _not_, Gandalf- no, listen to me! That does _not _mean it's acceptable to just hoist me up and, and _deposit_ me on the nearest Dwarf!"

"Oh, Dori's just fine with it, aren't you, brother?" drawled Nori.

Dori didn't protest except for a restrained moue. Which Bilbo, clinging to Dori's back like a limpet, thankfully could not see.

"I assure you, I can climb down the Carrock quite well! By myself!"

"It's not to insult you," tried Balin. "But we should make our way to the valley floor before nightfall, and Dwarves are able to move more quickly, especially where rock is concerned."

"Aye!" chirped Bofur. "Dwarves are experts at the climbing! Best you stay tucked away atop Dori, there, and then we can climb without any worry of you tripping up on your big Hobbity feet!"

"My feet are a perfectly respectable size, thank you!"

"But we really do need to do this quickly," I said.

"Oh? And I'll slow the mighty Wizard and the Dwarves down, will I? What about _Thorin_? He's the one with the injury, and I don't see you lot making Dwalin carry him like a sack of potatoes!"

Luckily, Bilbo was still in the king's oddly good graces, and so Thorin only glared at the Hobbit for a second before turning a suspicious eye on Dwalin, who raised his hands, palms out.

"Enough. Balin is right. We need to reach the ground before the sun sets. Move, everyone. Wizard, keep up. Mr. Baggins… please let Dori carry you," said Thorin.

Bilbo sighed and only mumbled "Certainly, why not, I suppose I've been promoted from Burglar to Baggage, then."

The noise picked up again as we all retrieved our belongings and distributed packs, and I could just hear him continue:

"If it's all right with you, of course, Dori."

"Why certainly, Bilbo," Dori said, masterfully ignoring Nori's snickers in the background.

**Agent: Saruman the White**

**Location: Isengard**

**Date: August 19th, TA 2941**

Must I remind you that official I.S.T.A.R.I. reports are to be used for vital field agent communication, Gandalf?

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: The ground!**

**Date: August 19th, TA 2941**

But it was wonderfully amusing!

Within a trice the Dwarves had set up a system of ropes from person to person so we were all attached during the climb down. We made fairly good time, though a few of the Dwarves (Thorin, Balin and Oin in particular) were slow to join us. They kept craning back to look at the Mountain far away on the horizon.

We finally did make it off the Carrock, though, and with plenty of daylight, too. I was rather focused on simply keeping up with the Dwarves (for it wouldn't do to let them think that a Wizard was less capable), but even I noticed how very white Thorin grew and the way his hands shook all the way down. He wouldn't complain if his life depended on it, of course, but I did see Dwalin subtly make his way over, and there were a few moments where, if one didn't know better, it would look like Thorin was resting his weight against the bald Dwarf's shoulder.

We all very carefully didn't look at those times.

Bilbo's discontented mutterings made an almost pleasant background hum the entire climb.

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: A plain**

**Date: August 19th, TA 2941**

Hmm. I really had hoped, after all the recent excitement, that we would have a chance to rest. But we had barely settled down at the base of the Carrock before we were forced to jump up again- there had been the distant howl of a Warg.

"But lunch…" whimpered Gloin. His brother thrust a hunk of travelling bread in the banker's hand.

"The beasties aren't done with us yet."

So we started running again. Poor Bilbo didn't even echo Gloin about yet another missed meal. He simply heaved a great sigh and grabbed his own piece of bread.

I don't even know how they found our trail again so quickly! That Azog fellow must have forced his troops to run throughout the night while we flew on Eagles. I'm lagging a bit behind- I will update you later!

**Agent: Saruman the White**

**Location: Isengard**

**Date: August 19th, TA 2941**

I am sure I do not need to remind you, Gandalf, that as one of the I.S.T.A.R.I., you are not allowed to die at the hands of something so inconsequential as an Orc.

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: Farther along the Plain**

**Date: A bit later in the afternoon**

Saruman! You wound me! I would never!

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: Behind some rocks**

**Date: Early nightfall**

We've all lumped behind a pile of rocks, as it is the best piece of cover we have come across recently. Bilbo is huddled almost on the top, peeking out to see our pursuers.

Ah! He's coming down.

"How close is the pack?" barked Dwalin.

"Too close. A couple of leagues, no more, but that is not the worst of it-"

Dwalin ignored his babbles. "Have the Wargs picked up our scent?"

"Not yet, but they will. We have another problem-"

I must admit I was a bit more worried about the immediacy of Wargs; I cut off Bilbo as well.

"Did they see you?" Bilbo hesitated for half a breath. Nienna wept, I _knew _it! "They saw you!"

Bilbo shook his head frantically, dirty blond curls bobbing. "No, that's not it-"

Oh, but of course not! The Burglar I chose would never do something so silly as be _seen_. I turned back to the Company with a broad smile.

"What did I tell you? Quiet as a mouse. _Excellent_ Burglar material!"

The Dwarves, as one, slumped into relieved sighs and chuckles. I could hear the princes whispering frantically ("Because he can turn totally invisible, you see?")

I turned around to see Bilbo puffed up and red in the face.

"Will you listen- Will you just _listen_? I'm trying to tell you there is-" and he hissed the last part, "_something else out there_!"

The Dwarves stopped chuckling at once.

What in Middle-earth could it… Oh! Perhaps we were closer than I thought.

"What form did it take?" I asked. "Like a bear?"

Bilbo nodded. "Ye-"

He stopped and looked at me.

"…yes. But bigger, much bigger."

"You knew about this beast?" asked Bofur.

If we were truly in the old bear's lands, I could afford a bit of Wizard mystery again. I ignored him and walked a few steps, as if in deep contemplation.

"I say we double back!" said Bofur.

"And be run down by a pack of Orcs?" That was Thorin.

I had finished my few paces, and looked upon the Company.

"There is a house," I said, "not far from here, where we might take refuge."

"Whose house? Are they friend or foe?" Thorin, again. Always so suspicious!

"Neither. He will help us, or he will kill us."

That statement got a nice reaction: all of the Dwarves looked at each, dismayed.

Thorin sighed.

"What choice do we have?"

There was a sudden roar from behind us.

"None," I said.

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: Jumping across a stream**

**Date: After midnight, I think**

More running.

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: A forest**

**Date: Definitely after midnight**

Running… Oh, look! I can see flashes of Azog and his Orcs through the trees! Perhaps I should wave.

…

That was another roar, quite close.

Perhaps not.

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: Beorn's**

**Date: I would like to sleep, now**

We found another burst of speed and raced through the rest of the forest, breaking out into another plain. Unfortunately, the Orcs were inspired to run even faster, as well.

There! I could see the surrounding hedge-wall of Beorn's dwelling.

"To the house!" I gasped. "Run!"

I have never seen anyone run as fast as I saw Bombur go then.

We made it through the hedge-gate and made for the door.

"Come on! Get inside!"

Bombur threw himself at the door, quickly followed by the rest of the Dwarves, all flinging themselves against the heavy wood like birds against a window. The door didn't so much as budge.

I looked over my shoulder.

Oh. Beorn was coming.

Straight at us.

Very quickly.

"Open the door!" I yelled.

Thorin shoved his way through the flailing Dwarves and lifted one hand, raising the latch.

The Company fell through in a pile, and just as frantically turned back to slam the door shut.

Oh, look! Beorn had gotten his head in the gap. I stood well behind the swearing mass of Dwarves and the snarling bear as the Company tried to push Beorn out. They looked like they were doing fine. Bilbo had his little sword pointed unsteadily in front of him.

Such a dear.

"Come on, lads!" said Dwalin, and with one last heave they slammed the door shut and threw the bolt.

Sudden, blessed silence.

"What is _that_?" shrieked Ori.

I smiled down at them.

"That… is our host."

Ah, all eyes on me. Excellent.

"His name is Beorn, and he is a skin-changer. Sometimes he is a huge black bear; sometimes he's a great strong man. The bear is unpredictable, but the man can be reasoned with. However," I looked out over the assembled Company, "he is not overfond of Dwarves."

The Dwarves looked at each other. Ori peered through a crack in the huge door.

"He's leaving!"

Dori yanked his youngest brother away.

"Come away from there! It's not natural, none of it. It's obvious he's under some dark spell."

Please.

"Don't be a fool," I said. "He's under no enchantment but his own." Dori glowered. "All right now, get some sleep, all of you. You'll be safe here tonight."

The Dwarves murmured and settled down in their usual piles.

I stayed upright a bit longer, mentally counting them all. And then, too quietly for them to hear, I whispered, "I hope so."

**Agent: Saruman the White**

**Location: Isengard**

**Date: August 20th, TA 2941**

I am ever so happy to hear that you are seeking refuge with bears now, Gandalf.

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: Beorn's**

**Date: August 20th, TA 2941**

Oh! Now that I'm finally sitting and able to think clearly again, do you think I could have overtime? I've been running or fighting ever since the 17th and that episode with the Goblin King.

**Agent: Saruman the White**

**Location: Isengard**

**Date: August 20th, TA 2941**

No.

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**Author's Note: Nienna wept is my new favorite Middle-earth saying.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: None of this is mine. All rights belong to the great J.R.R. Tolkien and Peter Jackson.**

* * *

_The following reports are extracted from the TA 2941 files._

* * *

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: Beorn's**

**Date: August 20th, TA 2941**

Hmm.

Field Observations on Contact: Beorn, Skin-changer. Sometime contact of Agent Radagast the Brown.

Objective: Use of Contact's lodgings as I.S.T.A.R.I. safe house.

Observations: Contact is currently outside, splitting logs for firewood. Using an axe taller than any of my companions. If I were anyone but a Wizard, I might be intimidated. Contact is significantly taller and wider and all-around larger than myself, and clearly has the strength to match his size. I will repeat: I am not intimidated or worried at all.

Operation: I shall seek Beorn's sympathy for our plight and minimize the dislike that thirteen Dwarves would incur. With luck (or my superior charisma, I should say), Beorn will provide us with shelter, food and aid in reaching Mirkwood, the next stage of our journey.

**Agent: Saruman the White**

**Location: Isengard**

**Date: August 20th, TA 2941**

Operation timeline parameters?

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: Beorn's**

**Date: August 20th, TA 2941**

Oh, I should think there's no great rush! Beorn looks quite busy! Swinging that great sharp, fearsome axe around. I am still at the edge of the house, with the Dwarves clustered behind me and whispering. The poor things seem frightened. I must speak and calm them before I do anything else!

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: Beorn's**

**Date: Still late August**

"I say we should leg it and slip out the back way!" said Nori.

Dwalin growled. "I'm not running from anyone, beast or no!"

"There is no point in arguing," I said, before it could break into an actual fight. (Dwarves, when unable to punch their way out of the problem, tend to punch each other until they feel better.) "We cannot pass through the Wilderland without Beorn's help! We'll be _hunted down_ before we ever get to the forest." As expected, that led to pleasant silence.

Ah! And then Bilbo arrived, peeking out from behind Thorin. Thorin, I must say, was busy leaning ever-so-casually against the doorframe, clearly trying to look as though he was not about to collapse from injuries.

I continued.

"Now, this will require some delicate handling. We must tread very carefully. The last person to have startled him was torn to shreds."

The Dwarves stared at me. Perhaps that wasn't very comforting, on second thought.

"I will go first, and… Bilbo? You will come with me."

Yes, of course. A harmless old Man and a charming little Hobbit would surely seem no threat! I_ knew_ bringing Bilbo along on this Quest would prove useful!

Bilbo stuttered a bit.

"Is- is this a good idea?" he said.

"Yes. Now, the rest of you, you just wait here and _don't come out_ until I give the signal."

"Right," said Bofur, standing on a windowsill. "Wait for the signal."

"And no sudden movements or loud noises and don't overcrowd him. And only come out in pairs."

I thought about that.

"No, actually, Bombur, you count as two so you should come out alone." Bombur looked at me, took another bite of carrot, and nodded. The brunet prince looked jealous.

"Remember," I said. "Wait for the signal!" And then Bilbo and I left.

I heard Bofur mumble something, but I wasn't really listening. I think it was "What signal would that be?" but I'm sure they will be fine.

**Agent: Saruman the White**

**Location: Isengard**

**Date: August 20th, TA 2941**

In your own time, Gandalf.

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: Beorn's**

**Date: Same day**

"You're nervous," said Bilbo.

What.

No.

"Nervous? What nonsense," I said.

Bilbo did not look convinced.

Doubt a Wizard, eh? I stopped a bit out of axe-range and raised my voice. "Good morning!"

Beorn only split another log.

Try again, Gandalf. You can do this.

"Good morning!"

At that, Beorn stopped. He gripped his axe and, back still to us, grumbled, "Who are you?"

First communication, reached!

"I'm Gandalf," I said, with a formal bow. "Gandalf the Grey." He couldn't fail to be impressed by one of the I.S.T.A.R.I. bowing! I honestly can't remember the last time I did so.

"Never heard of him."

That's new.

"I'm a wizard! Perhaps you've heard of my colleague, Radagast the Brown. He resides in the southern borders of Mirkwood."

Beorn simply kept looking tall and intimidating. "What do you want?"

So much for the "friend of a friend" introduction. The next time I see Radagast, I will not be pleasant.

"Well. Simply to thank you for your hospitality! You may have noticed that we took refuge in your lodgings here." I gestured back at the house, and in doing so, revealed Bilbo, who had been hiding behind my robes. Beorn immediately zeroed in on the cringing Hobbit. Good. Time for Bilbo to be glared at for a bit. See how he likes it.

The things I do for this Company!

"Who's this little fellow?"

"Oh, well. This would be Mr. Baggins of the Shire." I put a supporting arm around Bilbo's shoulders, which, incidentally, pushed him in front of me.

Beorn raised his axe. Oh, dear.

"He's not a Dwarf, is he?"

Bilbo looked insulted.

"Why no! No! He's a _Hobbit_. A good family. And unimpeachable reputation."

Bilbo looked rather unsure about that last thing (I suppose the Sackville-Bagginses would say his reputation was utterly destroyed) but gamely stared back at Beorn, who was examining him with undisguised curiosity.

"A Halfling," said Beorn. He didn't sound much happier, but at least that axe was back to resting on the ground. "And a Wizard. How come you're here?"

"Oh. Well. The fact is that we've had a bad time of it from Goblins in the mountains."

That took Beorn out of a growling monotone, thank the Valar. Unfortunately, he simply sounded scoffing when he said, "What did you go near Goblins for? Stupid thing to do."

If anyone other than a gigantic Bear Skin-Changer had said such a thing! And right to my face! Well, all I can say is that Beorn was lucky he had that axe. I decided that ignoring such rudeness would be best for my health.

"You are _absolutely right_," I said, waving my hands for emphasis.

There was a sudden heavy tromp of booted feet from behind me.

I closed my eyes. Beorn raised his axe. And when I turned around, yes, there they were.

Dwalin stood with his hands in his belt and Balin smiled genially.

I sighed.

"Dwalin and Balin. And I- I must confess that several of our group are, in fact, Dwarves."

"Do you call two _several_?"

Um.

"Well. Now you put it that way, um, no. Yes, er, there could be more than two."

Quick, delay!

I lifted a hand and started counting slowly.

This time, I could hear Bofur's frantically whispered "Go! Go!"

I am going to strangle that Dwarf with his own hat.

Gloin and Oin stumbled out the door and gave stiff bows.

"Oh!" I said, aiming for 'pleased surprise' and not 'restrained murder.' "And here are some more of our happy troop!"

Beorn snapped, "And do you call six a _troop_? What are you, a traveling circus?"

I laughed and shrugged.

"Go!"

"Dori and Ori, at your service!"

I think Ori curtsied.

"I don't want your service."

"Absolutely. Understandable." I waved an apologetic hand.

"Go! Go!"

_With his own hat_.

"Oh! Fili and Kili. I'd quite forgotten. Ha. Yes."

Beorn glared. More Dwarves clomped their way into the yard. I gave up.

"Yes. And Nori, Bofur, Bifur… and Bombur."

"Is that it? Are there any more?"

The assembled Dwarves stayed quiet and _well_ behind me. The first sign of intelligence they'd shown in months.

After an awkward pause, Thorin edged around the threshold.

Somehow, blast him, a breeze hit right then and rippled his hair out of his face. If you'd squinted, it almost looked majestic.

Beorn stared at him. Thorin stared back. I shrugged.

**Agent: Saruman the White**

**Location: Isengard**

**Date: August 21st, TA 2941**

I haven't seen such a failed attempt at a Contact Operation since King Eorl the Young* gifted the Blues two of his finest stallions and the Blues said they weren't really all that found of horses, thanks all the same.

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: Beorn's**

**Date: August 26th, TA 2941**

We have had quite a pleasant time with Beorn, much to my surprise. Once you get over his alarming appearance, habit of turning into a rage-filled gigantic black bear, hatred of Goblins, and extreme dislike of Dwarves, he is quite the pleasant host!

Beorn's lands are peaceful. He often spends his time guarding the perimeter from Goblins and Orcs. All of the animals that fall under his domain _adore _him. Many a time, I have seen deer and rabbits frolicking about his knees as he drags home some grisly hunting trophy. He always stops to give them a pat. Now I see why Radagast would recommend him.

We have been recuperating. Beorn's house is easily big enough for all of us, and one gets used to the overlarge furniture after a while. It is good to rest and gather ourselves before continuing the Quest. Everyone enjoys their free time differently. Bifur and Bilbo have been happy to wander the gardens and point at Beorn's impressive flower beds. Fili and Kili set up a few targets for increasingly complicated knife versus archery competitions. Oin and Bombur have been collecting herbs and honey (for healing and cooking, respectively). Ori hasn't put his sketchbook down once. Dori is happily patching everyone's clothing and hissing at Nori every time he tries to pocket Beorn's belongings. Dwalin, Balin and Thorin spend hours hunched over our maps and planning the next stages. I tend to sit quietly in the backyard with Gloin, smoking Pipe-weed and watching the many sheep, chickens and pigs. Bofur is no longer allowed near the animals ever since the third day, when he became bored and tried to ride the sheep ("They're close enough to battle goats, aren't they?")

Thankfully, Beorn seems more or less content to let us stay. We have been here longer than I anticipated, primarily because Thorin needs time to heal. Though of course, we have to be very careful not to say that within the king's hearing. Once, when we thought he was sleeping on a bench in the sunshine, Oin and I discussed his wounds. We both agreed that my magic on the Carrock kept him from death (of course), and the best thing for him now is rest.

"And as soon as his majesty is feeling himself again, we can go on," said Oin, nodding and stroking his white beard. Which was, apparently, Thorin's cue to snap his eyes open, launch himself from the bench and stagger drunkenly to his pack.

We had to talk him back down, which was mostly Thorin coughing "I will not hold my Company back!" and "I am no feeble Man!" while his Dwarves nodded and bowed and made absolutely no move to leave. Eventually Bilbo tutted and clucked until Thorin sat back down, pale and drawn.

Still, he is looking much better, and though I appreciate Beorn's hospitality (if not his utter ignorance of my fame), we ought to be leaving soon.

Ah. Bilbo wishes for me to tell you that "If that great bear calls me 'Little Bunny' one more time I cannot be held responsible for my actions. Lovely garden, though."

**Agent: Saruman the White**

**Location: Isengard**

**Date: August 27th, TA 2941**

I have received and noted that piece of vital correspondence.

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: Beorn's**

**Date: August 30th, TA 2941**

We were finally able to discuss our plans over one of Beorn's generous breakfasts. The Dwarves and Bilbo looked like children, perched on huge wooden benches and holding their tankards of milk with both hands. Wisely, though Beorn is a strict vegetarian, there hasn't been a single complaint about the lack of meat.

"So you are the one they call Oakenshield," said Beorn, and if anyone can pour milk ominously, it is the Skin-changer. "Tell me. Why is Azog the Defiler hunting you?"

"You know of Azog?" said Thorin. "How?"

Don't worry, Thorin, we all know that the White Orc is _your_ arch nemesis. You needn't share.

Apparently Beorn decided it was time for a history lesson.

"My people were the first to live in the mountians. Before the Orcs came down from the North." He paused for effect. "The Defiler killed most of my family. But some he _enslaved_." Oh. So the shackles on his wrists _weren't_ an odd fashion choice. "Not for work, you understand, but for sport. Caging Skin-changers and torturing them seemed to amuse him."

The Dwarves were hanging onto his every word.

But Bilbo decided it would be a jolly time to interrupt.

"There are others like you?"

"Once there were many."

"Now?"

Bilbo _stop talking_.

"Now there is only one."

**Agent: Saruman the White**

**Location: Isengard**

**Date: August 30th, TA 2941**

Lovely.

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: I know, right?**

**Date: Beorn must not be any fun at parties.**

"You need to reach the mountain before the last days of Autumn."

I lept on the change in topic.

"Before Durin's Day falls, yes."

"You are running out of time."

Yes, I know that.

"Which is why we must go through Mirkwood."

"A darkness lies upon that forest. Fell things creep beneath those trees. I would not venture there except in great need."

Why ever do you think we are _on _this Quest?

"We will take the Elven road," I said, reassuringly. "That path is still safe." Thorin rolled his eyes.

"Safe?" scoffed the Bear-man. "The Wood Elves of Mirkwood are not like their kin. They're less wise… and more dangerous."

Honestly. No fun at all.

"But it matters not."

Do you see what I mean?

Thorin, who had tuned out as soon as we started talking about Elves, turned back.

"What do you mean?"

"These lands," said Beorn, "are crawling with Orcs. Their numbers are growing. And you are on foot. You will never reach the forest alive."

With _that_ ominous proclamation, Beorn stood up.

"I don't like Dwarves."

Oh, come now, they are not all that bad! Once you get used to them-

"They're greedy."

Well, true.

"And blind. Blind to the lives of those they deem lesser than their own."

At this point we all rather stopped listening to what Beorn was saying as he suddenly scooped up a white mouse that had been making its way merrily along the table. It was very distracting.

"But," he said, stopping suddenly and holding the mouse gently, "Orcs I hate more."

Thorin and Beorn stared at each other, _completely_ ignoring me.

"What do you need?"

**Agent: Saruman the White**

**Location: Isengard**

**Date: August 30th, TA 2941**

Really, Gandalf, you ought to have appropriated the supplies you needed from the beginning. The I.S.T.A.R.I. _are_ working on behalf of all the Free Peoples, after all. And if you felt the need to repay him or some such nonsense, we _do _have Requisition Form 32-A for guaranteed compensation within 500 years.

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: Beorn's**

**Date: September 3rd, TA 2941**

Though he never has grown much fonder of the dwarves, Boern holds Bilbo in some fascination. He delights in feeding the Hobbit "back to plumpness," and Bilbo isn't exactly complaining about that. Beorn also enjoys hoisting Bilbo up on his shoulders without warning and poking him in the stomach. Bilbo enjoys that less, but wears his polite little smile and, as he usually receives extra portions of honey-cake at dinner, apparently thinks the indignity worthwhile.

The Dwarves are _not_ fond of Beorn's manhandling of "their" Hobbit.

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: Just outside of Beorn's**

**Date: September 4th, TA 2941**

Oin has given Thorin a final checkup, and deemed the Dwarf King fit for travel. Beorn has gathered rations and ponies for us. We leave for Mirkwood tomorrow!

* * *

***Eorl the Young: First king of the Rohans.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: None of this is mine. All rights belong to the great J.R.R. Tolkien and Peter Jackson.**

* * *

_The following reports are extracted from the TA 2941 files._

* * *

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: Just outside of Beorn's**

**Date: September 5th, TA 2941**

At last it is time! And thank the Valar, too; any more enforced rest and I believe Thorin might have cracked. As it is, he is busy bickering with Oin about carrying an equal share of the rations. Oin has gone conveniently deaf again.

Beorn and I are… supervising the Dwarves and Bilbo as they load the ponies. The Skin-changer is watching the proceedings like a father his children. He keeps twitching every time Gloin is over-rough with the bridle.

"You will leave my ponies before you enter the forest," he said.

I smiled. "You have my word."

Suddenly, a bird squawked and a chill seemed to fill the air. The hairs on the back of my neck rose. Beorn, too, stiffened and watched the bird fly away.

"We're being watched," I said.

"Yes," rumbled Beorn. "The Orcs will not give up. They will hunt the Dwarves until they see them destroyed."

"Why _now_? What has made the Defiler crawl from his hole?"

"There is an alliance between the Orcs of Moria and the sorcerer of Dol Guldur."

There what now.

"Are you sure of this?" I asked.

"Packs have been seen gathering there. Each day more and more come."

Well.

"What do you know of this sorcerer? The one they call the Necromancer."

"I know he is not what he seems. Fell things are drawn to his power. Azog pays homage to him."

**Agent: Saruman the White**

**Location: Isengard**

**Date: September 5th, TA 2941**

That is ridiculous, Gandalf. We live in a time of peace.

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: Outside Beorn's**

**Date: September 5th, TA 2941**

And yet…

**Agent: Saruman the White**

**Location: Isengard**

**Date: September 5th, TA 2941**

Gandalf.

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: Outside Beorn's**

**Date: September 5th, TA 2941**

Thorin called over.

"Gandalf. Time is wasting."

And then he gave a jerk of his head. Like a _summons_.

I began walking over to the king in order to _let him know what I thought of mortals summoning me _but Beorn spoke again. Lucky for Thorin.

"There is more," said the Skin-changer. "Not long past word had spread that the dead had been seen walking near the high fells of Rhudaur."

"The dead?"

"Is it true? Are there tombs in those mountains?"

I paused. If by "tombs" he meant the dark, abandoned caverns buried deep within the far north of Eriador in the remnants of Arnor, where the Witch-king of Angmar had been wrapped in linens and chains and thrown in a tomb barred by metal and magic, over a thousand years before the I.S.T.A.R.I. ever stepped foot in Middle-earth…

"Yes," I said. "There are tombs there."

"I remember a time when a great evil ruled these lands. One powerful enough to raise the dead. If that enemy has returned to Middle-earth, I would have you tell me."

"Saruman the White says it's not possible. The enemy was destroyed and will never return."

Beorn only looked at me. "And what does Gandalf the Grey say?"

I stood in silence.

The birds around us squawked in distress, and the ponies shuffled nervously in place.

"Go now while you still have the light," said Beorn. "Your hunters are not far behind."

**Agent: Saruman the White**

**Location: Isengard**

**Date: September 6th, TA 2941**

As I have told you and the other I.S.T.A.R.I. many, many times: the enemy that is Sauron was defeated long ago. We must not look for evil where there is none, Gandalf. Instead, we are to lead the mortals of Middle-earth through the lesser shadows of that great evil, overseeing their progression towards our desires.

**Agent: Saruman the White**

**Location: Isengard**

**Date: September 7th, TA 2941**

Eru's desires. Is what I meant to write.

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: Edge of Mirkwood**

**Date: September 8th, TA 2941**

We have finally reached the borders of the great forest! Even from here, though, it is, well, disturbing. Unsettling. And yet my mind is not ahead, but in the north, thinking on Radagast's warnings and Beorn's rumors.

**Agent: Saruman the White**

**Location: Isengard**

**Date: September 8th, TA 2941**

Loath as I am to say it, Gandalf, but this quest of yours (doomed to failure though it is) really should be your only focus at this time. At least it distracts you from false fear-mongering.

If it truly concerns you, I can take some of my own, very important, time to look into the matter.

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: Edge of Mirkwood**

**Date: Same day**

If you insist.

**Agent: Saruman the White**

**Location: Isengard**

**Date: September 8th, TA 2941**

I really do.

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: Edge of Mirkwood**

**Date: Still the 8th**

I have walked a few feet into Mirkwood, my staff tapping against the old Elven-road. The statuary at this entrance and the very stones of the path are cracked and covered in sickly vines.

I turned back to the Dwarves.

"Here lies our path through Mirkwood!"

"No sign of the Orcs," grunted Dwalin as he dismounted. "We have luck on our side."

I could just see Beorn in his bear shape, some distance away on a hill. Watching over his lands.

"Set the ponies loose!" I cried. "Let them return to their master."

There was a great deal of grumbling, but the Dwarves began unloading the mounts and hefting the supplies onto their own backs. Bilbo stumbled over to the tree line. The Hobbit, attuned to green and growing things, clearly felt the wrongness of this place even more than I.

"This forest," he said, "feels… sick. As if a disease lies upon it. Is there no way around?"

"Not unless we go two hundred miles north. Or twice that distance south." My voice trailed off as I stepped farther onto the path.

I could hear the Lady Galadriel's voice in my head.

"Something moves in the shadows unseen, hidden from our sight. Every day it grows in strength. Beware the Necromancer. He is not what he seems."

There was a statue by the gate. A beautiful Elf-maid, though weeds grew upon her. But something about the statue filled me with the greatest foreboding. I reached out and, with a trembling hand, tore off the vines.

I staggered back.

A crude eye, painted in vivid red.

It was horribly, horribly wrong.

Galadriel spoke in my mind again.

"If our enemy has returned, we must know. Go to the tombs in the mountains."

"The high fells." I nodded. "So be it."

**Agent: Saruman the White**

**Location: Isengard**

**Date: September 8th, TA 2941**

_Gandalf._ I told you to stay _away_ from the tombs and stay _with_ the Dwarves. I know how fond you are of the Elf Galadriel, but must I remind you that she is _not_ who you take orders from?

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: Just outside Mirkwood**

**Date: Same day**

But Saruman, who am I to disagree with the Lady? She is wise beyond measure, and I am sure this little side-trip will not take long. Besides, I can't say I am terribly upset to hear I mustn't travel through Mirkwood. Really, it is quite excellent timing.

I strode back to the Dwarves and the ponies.

"Not my horse! I need it!"

Bilbo goggled. "You're not _leaving_ us?"

"I would not do this if I did not have to," I said.

The Dwarves and Bilbo looked gratifyingly sad to see me go.

"You've changed, Bilbo Baggins," I said. "You're not the same Hobbit as the one who left the Shire."

Bilbo sounded like he was about to cry.

"I was about to tell you… I… found something in the Goblin tunnels."

"Found what," I asked.

My Hobbit paused, and worried his pocket.

"What did you find?"

"…my courage."

**Agent: Saruman the White**

**Location: Isengard**

**Date: September 8th, TA 2941**

How sweet.

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: Outside Mirkwood**

**Date: September 8th, TA 2941**

Indeed. I _knew _this Adventure would be good for the little fellow!

**Agent: Saruman the White**

**Location: Isengard**

**Date: September 8th, TA 2941**

Wait! Gandalf. It occurs to me that, by leaving to investigate the tombs, you will no longer be able to inform me on the Dwarves' progress. Which would be an absolute shame. I think it would be best if you were to stay with them.

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: Outside Mirkwood**

**Date: Still the same day**

Why, Saruman! I am ever so pleased to hear that you enjoy reading the accounts of this little Quest! Don't worry, though. I have asked Mr. Baggins to write reports during my absence! I am delegating!

**Agent: Saruman the White**

**Location: Isengard**

**Date: September 8th, TA 2941**

Wonderful.

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: Outside Mirkwood**

**Date: September 8th, TA 2941**

"I'll be waiting for you at the overlook before the slopes of Erebor! Keep the map and key safe! Do not enter that mountain without me," I said.

I gave a few last pieces of advice before I left.

"This is not the Greenwood of old. There is a stream in the woods that carries a dark enchantment. Do not touch the water. Cross only by the stone bridge. The very air of the forest is heavy with illusion. It'll see to enter your mind and lead you astray. You must stay on the path! Do _not _leave it. If you do, you'll never find it again. No matter what may come, _stay on the path_."

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: Beorn's horse**

**Date: She is not as charming as Margaret, but I shall make do**

The Company really seemed most upset at the idea that I would leave. But what can I say? I am not even an official member of the Company (if I were, I would be in charge, obviously). I didn't sign any contract!

I generally make it a policy _never _to sign contracts, as I am always somehow forced to break my word, and then you have people hounding you blathering on about _responsibility_ and _honor_ and _but you signed the damned thing come back here by Eru_.

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: A few miles out**

**Date: September 8th, TA 2941**

It has suddenly occurred to me that Bilbo might have been trying to tell me about that ring of his. Hmm. I should remember to ask him about it when we meet up again.

**Agent: Saruman the White**

**Location: Isengard**

**Date: September 8th, TA 2941**

Gandalf. _Do not forget to ask him about the ring._

* * *

**Thorin is upset that he only had one line this chapter.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: None of this is mine. All rights belong to the great J.R.R. Tolkien and Peter Jackson.**

* * *

_The following reports are extracted from the TA 2941 files._

* * *

8 September 2941

Mr. Saruman,

Our mutual acquaintance Gandalf recently left the Company, one presumes on urgent matters of business. He did not deign to inform _us_, but then that is not out of the ordinary. I must say I do not know what sort of operation you Wizards are running. It appears to be a great deal of spreading confusion. And ominous warnings. Sometimes there are fireworks, which I do approve of, having many fond memories of the old Wizard's creations lighting up the night sky over the Shire. Those memories feel very distant. It is difficult to believe that I shall ever return to the Shire, or Hobbiton, or my own smial. I can picture my loving relatives now: "Bilbo!" (they would say) "How can you complain now? It is only what you deserve, running off to the Wilds in search of Adventures with Big Folk! And you a respectable Baggins!" They always ignore that I am a Took as much as a Baggins.

I never did listen to my relatives, excepting my dear departed parents. The majority of my very large family are terrible busybodies. And perhaps it is all this time spent with Dwarves, but I do not miss being respectable. Oh, I miss the comforts of home and a good armchair. And good food! But respectability did very little for me. I do not miss all the worry to keep up appearances, and endless polite chit-chat about the weather that was really about what a neighbor has been up to. The Dwarves have taught me to speak plainly, I believe!

Forgive me, Mr. Saruman! The Dwarves have also taught me rather terrible manners. Here I am, rambling on and on, wasting both your time and Ori's paper. I have not been able to get my hands on any of the Company's paper since I joined, it being necessary for use by a scribe. Ori is quite protective of it. He has carried it through Orc attacks and Elvish banquets! (the Dwarves hold both in equal terror) But Gandalf was quite insistent that your Wizarding order needed to be kept up-to-date on our adventure to reclaim Erebor, and I quite leapt at the chance to finally write again. Though I must confess, I haven't the slightest idea how to write an "official I.S.T.A.R.I. report." I am sure that a friendly Hobbit-style letter will do the job well enough. Enough introduction!

When Gandalf left us at the edge of Mirkwood Forest, it had just begun to rain, but I should have gladly stood in a bit of rain if the only other option was to take shelter under such menacing trees. Unfortunately, the decision was not mine to make, and so under the trees we went. The sound of rain immediately faded, as if we had entered another world- a dark world, filled with sickness and shadow. I have grown much in courage over the course of this journey, however, and steeled myself. (I am facing a dragon! Eventually. One depressing forest will be easily overcome.) Thorin showed no hesitation. He is always very brave, of course, and a devoted leader, and he is determined to lead us through any and all dangers. Through sheer bullheaded stubbornness, if necessary, but it has worked out so far. None of the Dwarves appeared as affected by the grim wrongness of the trees that surrounded us (and surround us still) as myself, but then one cannot expect Dwarves to be very sensitive to growing things.

Thorin kept us right on the track all day. At any other time I might be concerned with his sense of direction, but though the path is narrow and often covered in leaves, it is not too difficult. The light grew dimmer and dimmer as we walked. The branches seemed to close in. Yet we pressed on, our eyes on the path. There really isn't anywhere else to look, besides the back of the person ahead of you. The trees press in all around, and though I have not been able to hear any animal life, at times I imagine glowing eyes peer out of the darkness at us. It is better not to look. The path turned here and there- nothing too difficult. It was hard to keep track of time, but eventually Thorin let us stop to make evening camp. Usually we would break apart to do all the little chores a camp requires, to hunt or to gather firewood, but tonight we contented ourselves with honey cakes . Oin scraped a fire together from the withered sticks that little the path. It was a welcome bit of warmth for all of thirty seconds, for it attracted ghastly, gigantic moths that flapped around our heads until many heavily-booted Dwarven feet stamped out the lure of the fire. We are not even able to light a pipe!

I am writing this in the weak moonlight that dares travel through the forest canopy. Please do excuse any awkwardness in handwriting. Between the insufficient light and using my knees as a desk, I am afraid this letter is not up to my usual standards. But it will have to do. This, then, has been the first full day without Gandalf. And my first report to the leader of the Wizards in Middle-earth! That is some good to come out of today. I had better finish. One of those birds that Gandalf sends mail with is perching on a log at my side. It looks impatient, so I shall finish writing.

Yours sincerely,

Bilbo Baggins

_[Sept. 9th, 2941] I.S.T.A.R.I. analysis on report received from Baggins (Gandalf): Does this Halfling suppose me to be some sort of manager to whom complaints might be addressed. Does he expect a response. Agent Gandalf failed utterly to explain both brevity and proper procedure. Should not be surprised._

_No mention of any ring._

11 September 2941

Mr. Saruman,

It has been a few days since my last letter. Nothing to share. The food remains terrible, the path old but usable.

I do, however, have a question in regards to your mail-bird: how do they know where to find me? I assumed Gandalf served as a sort of magical beacon, but I am just a Hobbit. Is the bird magical itself? Can it talk, as the Dwarves say the Ravens of Erebor do?

Sincerely,

B. Baggins

_[Sept. 12th, 2941] I.S.T.A.R.I. analysis on report received from Baggins (Gandalf): Does the Halfling expect me, the leader of the I.S.T.A.R.I. in Middle-earth, to take the time to explain magical processes that he cannot use, let alone begin to comprehend. This is a report, not a correspondence._

16 September 2941

Mr. Saruman,

I pass the time imagining what I might write, for any attempt at conversation seems to falter here. We do try. Thorin's nephews work out new jokes and ask if Hobbits really can become invisible (of course not). The older dwarves discuss strategy. I used to discuss recipes with Bombur, but the rest of the Company vehemently opposed that. We have not had good food since we left Beorn's, travel rations being repetitive and bland. Also served in very small portions, since we do not know how long we shall be wandering this wretched place. Sometimes we augment the diet with one of the black squirrels (they are the only animal besides the moths and a bat here and there) that can be seen if you look very carefully. If you make a fire during daytime the moths are not a bother. Nori said he could see eyes watching us, but whenever I turn to look I see nothing. Well. Maybe a quick flash, but it is most likely my overactive imagination. But we can manage a fire, as I was saying, to cook a squirrel now and then, but the squirrels are stringy and unpleasant tasting, and the smoke is acrid.

Sometimes I find myself walking next to Thorin, and if the silence grows too oppressive, we talk a bit. He has become _much_ easier to talk to- ever since the Carrock. He is still gruff and rarely ever smiles and we have very little in common, and I often think I see him looking at me as though trying to figure out a particularly strange puzzle. Still. When I compare him to the grim Dwarf who came into my home and called me grocer all those months ago, it is quite a remarkable change! I believe he actually considers me one of his Company now. He is very loyal to those within his group. I suppose it is a kingly way to act. He is the only king I have ever met. Besides the Goblin King. I won't count him.

This has been another letter with nothing much to interest a Wizard, I know. We still continue traveling, but the days blur into one another, and the most exciting thing to occur was... well. I cannot think of anything. Gandalf would be unbearably bored. It is probably for the best that he is not here. He might light the entire forest on fire. ...I almost think I would encourage that, if we were not in it.

Sincerely,

B. Baggins

_[Sept. 17th, 2941] I.S.T.A.R.I. analysis on report received from Baggins (Gandalf): Does he think reports are diaries._

Mr. Saruman,

I am afraid I have lost track of the date. Your bird sometimes delivered letters to Gandalf- would you be able to send the current date? It would not be accurate by the time it came here, of course, but a rough sense of time would be much appreciated. Also, do you have any news on Gandalf? Simply to fulfill a Hobbit's curiosity. In truth, any sort of response would be appreciated. I feel as though I am writing letters to air.

Sincerely,

B. Baggins

_[Sept. 21st, 2941] I.S.T.A.R.I. analysis on report received from Baggins (Gandalf): Then why does he continue to write._

_[Sept. 23rd, 2941] Will send an information request about ring._

Mr. Saruman,

Today when your bird arrived, it had a bit of paper tied to its leg! Such a small thing cheered us all up immeasurably! It will be days before the Dwarves start mumbling that bird might be a nice thing to eat. For that I thank you! We all crowded around to read it. Now, I have to admit we were all confused when we read "Do you have jewelry." Was this... part of a longer message? (Perhaps one with a date?)

Nevertheless, please see the attached list of every item every Dwarf in the Company owns, helpfully organized by metal type and with notations next to Mastery-level pieces. It is a very comprehensive list. Hobbits do not typically wear jewelry. Maybe a wedding band, but little else (unless you are my cousin Lobelia!).

Sincerely,

B. Baggins

Mr. Saruman,

Thank you for another letter! This, too, lacked a date, or a second sentence, but I suppose you are very busy. "Does Bilbo Baggins the Halfling have a ring." As I said before, Hobbits do not typically wear jewelry, and I am not married. Happy to have helped!

It has been a few days since your first message, I believe, but the Dwarves have still not stopped talking about their jewelry. They speak in whispers and with long pauses, but it is cheerful conversation compared to the past few days (weeks?). Thorin showed me his signet ring. It is very large and shiny.

Sincerely,

B. Baggins

_[Sept. 25th, 2941] I.S.T.A.R.I. analysis on report received from Baggins (Gandalf): Communication with mortals extremely tedious._

* * *

**GUESS WHO'S BACK**


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: None of this is mine. All rights belong to the great J.R.R. Tolkien and Peter Jackson. **

* * *

The following reports are extracted from the TA 2941 files.

* * *

Mr. Saruman,

Yet more dismal, grim days and oppressive nights. I had some hope that we might grow accustomed to this forest, but it is not just the dark and the silence and the poor food, for my first impression (that Mirkwood is sick) remains, though it has been weeks. I only grow more certain with every step. And it is not just unwell! No, it is malevolent. The constant stress that we are under is intolerable. We all feel as though we are being watched by some entity that wishes us harm. Every so often Dwalin will whirl around as though he thinks someone has crept up behind him. But it is nothing. And so the terrible suspense keeps building and building! Will it ever stop? Will we ever find the end to this wretched forest? What I wouldn't do for a breath of air, or a glimpse of sky!

Sincerely,

B. Baggins

_[Oct. 1st, 2941] I.S.T.A.R.I. analysis on report received from Baggins (Gandalf): I do not care. Why does the Hobbit think I care?_

Mr. Saruman,

We were walking along in silence, as is so often the case. I was behind Bofur, and staring dully at his shoes, kicking up dead leaves with every shuffling step. One step, and then another, and then another-

"Bridge!"

Finally! Imagine the thrill that ran through me. We had finally reached the stream that Gandalf had mentioned! It was a short-lived excitement, unfortunately, as the bridge was... well. There was no middle. Our side extended out over the stream, but then jagged stones ended at a gap many feet long. Far too long to jump. Now, I am not the complaining sort, but Gandalf had not mentioned that the bridge would be _broken_. I understand that few wish to travel through Mirkwood. I certainly do not blame them! But really, if there is a path and a bridge, one really would except at least a semblance of maintenance. I do not think I am asking for much.

"We could try and swim it," said Bofur.

"Didn't you hear what Gandalf said?" This was Thorin . "A dark magic lies upon this forest. The waters of this stream are enchanted."

I was quite grateful to him for reminding everyone. Hobbits are not very good swimmers, enchanted water or not!

"It doesn't look very enchanting to me," said Bofur.

"We must find another way across," said Thorin. I stared at the water as the Dwarves looked about, as if they thought there would be a convenient boat somewhere.

And then Kili found several vines that stretched over the stream, and _who_ do you imagine Thorin ordered to go across first? So across I went, slowly and carefully, holding onto vines above my head for balance. And then I slipped and almost fell in, and... well... the water was suddenly a few inches from my face, and terribly strange to look at. I righted myself soon enough and flung myself onto the shore. With much relief, you may be certain! I sat down as soon as I felt stable ground underneath. It had been a short journey, but fatiguing, and it felt good to sit.

I thought the others had better find a different way. I turned and shouted, "Stay where you are!" Too late.

The Dwarves had already started over. They were swaying and stamping and packed in so close together it was a wonder the vines didn't break under the strain. There was nothing for it but to watch.

Thorin joined me first. Instead of looking at me, or checking whether the rest of the Company were progressing, he peered into the trees. I followed his gaze to see a white hart- a beautiful creature. Now I understand that we are all quite hungry, and it looked healthy, unlike every wretched squirrel we've found, but I still cannot believe that Thorin tried to shoot it! Dwarves! He missed, though, and the beast fled.

"You shouldn't have done that," I said. "It's bad luck."

"I don't believe in luck," spat Thorin. "We make our own luck."

And then Bombur fell into the stream. Thank goodness it was quite shallow, and he appears unhurt, but Gandalf was right (do not tell him I said so) about an enchantment. We pulled Bombur out, but he was fast asleep, and shows no signs of waking anytime soon. Several of the others are creating a litter for him. Fortunately, the rest of us show no ill effects.

Sincerely,

B. Baggins

_[Oct. 3rd, 2941] I.S.T.A.R.I. analysis on report received from Baggins (Gandalf): Did the exiled king just try to shoot one of Thranduil's deer._

Mr. Saruman,

Carrying Bombur about is not an easy task. We take it in turns, but it is still tiring. I do wish Thorin would let us rest more.

Oin mashes up Bombur's food and water into a thin slurry and feeds him with a spoon, holding his mouth shut until he swallows. It is a very slow process, but even Dwarves, hardy as they are, must eat. Truthfully, I was rather hoping I would be able to eat Bombur's portion.

Sincerely,

B. Baggins

_[Oct. 5th, 2941] I.S.T.A.R.I. analysis on report received from Baggins (Gandalf): Still have not heard from Gandalf._

Mr. Saruman,

I must be dreaming as I walk, now. Today I thought I heard voices from the trees. But that is nonsense.

Sincerely,

B. Baggins

_[Oct. 7sth, 2941] I.S.T.A.R.I. analysis on report received from Baggins (Gandalf): Gandalf has probably gotten into trouble by now._

Mr. Saruman,

This is maddening. Perhaps Mirkwood doesn't have an eastern border. Perhaps, if we were to turn back, we could never find the western edge either. Perhaps the entire world is Mirkwood.

Forgive me- I have been in a strange state lately.

Sincerely,

B. Baggins

_[Oct. 9th, 2941] I.S.T.A.R.I. analysis on report received from Baggins (Gandalf): If Gandalf is in trouble, it would be only what he deserves, ignoring my orders._

Mr. Saruman,

The path is gone. That isn't a good thing, is it?

Sincerely,

B. Baggins

_[Oct. 11th, 2941] I.S.T.A.R.I. analysis on report received from Baggins (Gandalf): They might be worse at following orders than Gandalf._

Mr. Saruman,

Where are we?

Sincerely,

B. Baggins

Mr. Saruman,

I feel very strange.

Sincerely,

B. Baggins

Mr. Saruman,

Today I walked backwards, but I moved forwards. I think.

Sincerely,

B. Baggins

Mr. Saruman,

I saw myself, but there are no mirrors. How did two of me make it here? Will I have to share my portion of the rations with him?

Sincerely,

B. Baggins

_[Oct. 13th, 2941] I.S.T.A.R.I. analysis on report received from Baggins (Gandalf): Mortals._

Mr. Saruman,

Dwarves are ridiculous. I don't believe that stream was good for them- they have been acting very strangely. Even more than usual for dwarves, I mean. You understand that this is serious.

Bombur is the only reasonable one, and that is because he is still asleep.

I am eight feet tall today.

Sincerely,

B. Baggins

_[Oct. 16th,, 2941] I.S.T.A.R.I. analysis on report received from Baggins (Gandalf): Didn't Radagast live in Mirkwood? Perhaps that explains his... everything._

Mr. Saruman,

Oh dear. It isn't just the Dwarves who have been acting oddly, is it? Do forgive any ridiculous things I may have written you, please.

I am currently in a tree. We found ourselves terribly lost, and so I finally decided to climb a tree for a glimpse of sun, so we would at least know which direction to walk in, path or no path. I was not overly eager for the climb, I admit. It is very high up. But oh! With each foot, I found myself thinking clearer. As if fog had been crowding my mind, but a good clean western breeze swept it away. And when I finally pulled myself up so my head broke the canopy! The sky, Mr. Saruman! I have missed it so! I blinked furiously in the sudden light, and breathed deeply for the first time in weeks. It is almost unbearably beautiful here, after the misery of Mirkwood. There are _butterflies_. They are flitting around my head right now, as I sit here writing.

I would be overjoyed if this were all the good news I have to give, but there is more! I can see the mountain! I can see the end of the forest! We are so close! I am sure the news will shake the others out of their stupors. Wonderful!

... they aren't answering me.

Sincerely,

B. Baggins

_[Oct. 17th, 2941] I.S.T.A.R.I. analysis on report received from Baggins (Gandalf): Thank the Valar I know about the butterflies. What a vital piece of information._

* * *

**Agents may find themselves in normal forests, as they do exist, but are very rare.**


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: None of this is mine. All rights belong to the great J.R.R. Tolkien and Peter Jackson. **

* * *

_The following reports are extracted from the TA 2941 files._

* * *

Mr. Saruman,

Spiders! Whatever is wrong with Mirkwood? Spiders should not grow that large! I had thought the moths bad enough! Large as my hand, they were! But the spiders! And why is it that everything we come across wishes to eat us? The trolls wanted to eat us, the wargs wanted to eat us, and now spiders! Spiders larger than horses! If we weren't currently being led as prisoners by the Elves, I should be in quite the mind to complain! Spiders, and the dreadful path and bridge! The stream should have at least had a sign posted nearby! "Caution: Enchanted Stream." Or "Do Not Touch the Water." Suppose we hadn't been warned by Gandalf that it was enchanted? We might have all merrily tried to wade through, only to all end up snoring like Bombur!

I might still complain once we get to wherever we are going. We are to be brought to whoever is in charge here, I assume (not that the fierce Elves chivvying us on have had the decency to speak in Westron since our capture, and my Sindarin is unfortunately rusty). I tell you, once this is all sorted out I shall not leave until I give their leader a piece of my mind, you may be certain of that! I don't expect such order as you find in the Shire, but a few signs, a neater road, fewer monstrous spiders... it isn't too much to ask, is it? Of course not. I might request better treatment from these guard-Elves, too. I can understand being wary of strange persons tromping through one's backyard- even in Hobbiton we have our sherrifs- but must they be so rude about it?

At first I'd thought they'd showed up to help us, after we all found ourselves desperately battling their spiders. Nor were we doing too badly, actually. I had to help the Dwarves out of the dreadful webs they'd been tangled up in, first, but then everyone was quite eager to swing at the nasty insects. I managed a few good swipes myself! My "letter-opener," as Balin so casually dismissed it, is quite a good little blade, and so I have named it "Sting," as one of the spiders described its bite (the spiders could talk!). The Dwarves, with my own humble contribution, were doing well enough, but still, when Elves started dropping down from trees it was a welcome sight.

Or so I'd thought! Elrond's elves could certainly teach this lot some lessons in hospitality. They're marching us very hard. Even poor Bombur, who is still rather shook from his long sleep. Oh, yes, you will be happy to note that dear old Bombur is awake once again. All that excitement with the spiders worked a wonder. Though I'm sure he would have preferred a gentler wake-up call. But here we are, marching along, and I am trying to keep up and write to you at the same time. I am actually, ah. I am not really with the rest of the party, but a bit behind. You see, the Elves did not see me! Because. As I'm sure Gandalf has told you, we Hobbits can be quite hidden when we wish! It is a most useful and natural talent. So I am creeping along after them, for I do not think it wise to be made a prisoner, too! I will show myself to their leader, who must be more reasonable, and then we will explain all of the confusion away.

Sincerely,

B. Baggins

_[Oct. 17th, 2941] I.S.T.A.R.I. analysis on report received from Baggins (Gandalf): Honestly where is Gandalf._

Mr. Saruman,

And the lack of good railings! I shall certainly be letting this leader know what I think about that! It isn't safe!

Sincerely,

B. Baggins

_[Oct. 17th, 2941] I.S.T.A.R.I. analysis on report received from Baggins (Gandalf): He complains more than Gandalf._

Mr. Saruman,

Apparently this leader is a king, for whatever difference that makes. He certainly has a throne, and a crown of some sort. I had been hoping for more from a king, to be honest. Between this one and the Goblins' king, I am yet to meet a (non-exile) king that is anything like the rulers in stories. It seems to me that a king ought to show some courtesy to guests, and not toss them into a dungeon for losing their way. Thorin would be much more understanding, if he were a real king again and some lost folk appeared. I am quite sure. Perhaps not lost Elves, though. He is not overfond of Elves, after what that one group did when the mountain was under attack.

Well. Now it is just Thorin and the Elf king. And myself, of course, hiding away in a shadow. And a few guards. Though they may be statues. They are standing very still and one never knows with Elves.

This is not a very pleasant conversation.

Oh... these are the same Elves as "that one group." But it has been one hundred years since that unfortunate incident! Surely they- no. No, neither Thorin or their king look as though they want peaceful reconciliation. I imagined him looking a bit more evil to be honest, the way Balin told the story, but he certainly does look stern. I don't know how he can look so smug, after all he did to Thorin's poor people, when they most needed help!

The Elf king (his name is Thranduil) will keep on asking what Thorin was doing in Mirkwood (though he calls it the Greenwood), but Thorin keeps only saying, "Starving." Which is quite true, of course, but the king is growing impatient.

Oh! But now he is offering terms for release! This is wonderful news, and-

Oh dear. Thorin... did not accept. Of course Thorin is quite in the right to be upset, but all that... shouting has made Thranduil very displeased. I don't think they are going to work out a deal.

Oh, Thorin.

I am waiting for the area by the dungeon to grow quieter before I sneak over and see what we ought to do next. In the meantime, there isn't much to do but pace the halls and worry. I searched through the papers in one of the guard rooms, hoping for some information I could use, but the best I could find was a recent report, which I have enclosed. I understand written Sindarin much better than the speech, so I only took the report dealing with the Dwarves, as I may be a contracted Burglar, but stealing more than I need is very rude.

_New Prisoner Entry: October 17 TA 2941 (Feast of Starlight)_

_Thirteen prisoners (Dwarf, all believed male) were taken a few hours' distance from the palace. Their presence in the Greenwood was noticed by my patrol when we overheard a loud commotion. We arrived promptly and saw the aforementioned Dwarves engaged in a brawl with several spiders. Spiders quickly dealt with. Many weapons confiscated. Twelve of the thirteen placed within cells immediately upon arrival at the palace. One may need medical attention. Possible issues with eyes, as did not seem able to close them. A healer will be sent in the morning to examine him (tall, less unsightly beard than most). Thirteenth Dwarf sent to throne room for interrogation._

_-Capt. Tauriel_

I hope this proves to be useful information!

Sincerely,

B. Baggins

_[Oct. 17th, 2941] I.S.T.A.R.I. analysis on report received from Baggins (Gandalf): Good. They can stay locked up for a good long while. Now to stop Gandalf from his latest foolishness._

* * *

**On the one hand: captured by elves. On the other hand: _we're out of the forest hooray_**


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: None of this is mine. All rights belong to the great J.R.R. Tolkien and Peter Jackson.**

* * *

_The following reports are extracted from the TA 2941 files._

* * *

Mr. Saruman,

I had hoped this Thranduil might be amenable to reasonable talk, but after his earlier display I think not! Instead I find myself skulking about as though I were some sort of... of burglar! It is very unpleasant.

I was able to find the kitchens, though! I nipped in for a bite or two, and am feeling much better. A hungry Hobbit is a sad thing. And I did not just eat my fill (for once!) The kitchens were rather busy, and while I was dodging around, I overheard that there is to be some sort of party tonight! Even Elves are sure to become distracted by a good party! I am sure that I will be able to sneak the Dwarves out... as soon as I find a way out in the first place.

The great main door that we originally came in through is still guarded, and much too obvious. But even a grand Elven palace must have a back entrance or two! Never you fear, I shall discover a way!

Sincerely,

B. Baggins

_[Oct. 17th, 2941] I.S.T.A.R.I. analysis on report received from Baggins (Gandalf): With any luck, he will be captured as well._

Mr. Saruman,

Goodness! I was almost captured! I was simply walking quietly and then I found myself in a room with that Thranduil fellow! And he turned and looked right at me!

"I know you're there. Why do you linger in the shadows?"

I don't mind telling you, I almost dropped dead out of shock then and there! But then the guard captain spoke up behind me- he had been addressing her! I am not made for such stress! I spent the rest of their conversation trying to get my heart to go back to a normal rate, and what with all the pounding in my head I couldn't hear much, anyway. But I did gather that the king and the guard captain are quite different sorts of Elves. Thranduil looks down on Tauriel's sort, rather. Perhaps he doesn't like red hair? The Dwarves are quite fond of that color, as Bombur and Gloin are both deemed very attractive by Dwarvish standards.

Sincerely,

B. Baggins

_[Oct. 17th, 2941] I.S.T.A.R.I. analysis on report received from Baggins (Gandalf): Will he never stop talking._

Mr. Saruman,

I followed after the guard captain (Tauriel) to the Dwarves' cells. These Elves have excellent hearing, so this time I stayed well out of earshot. She spent some time interviewing Kili, and I was worried that the poor boy (though I understand he is many decades older than myself) might have had a difficult time. But he seemed calm enough when she left. She wrote up this report, after, which I took the liberty of removing from her desk as I did the last one. I haven't time to read it, though, as I believe I saw the Elf with the cell keys walking down some step! I must follow him!

_Prisoner Interrogation Entry: October 17 TA 2941 (Feast of Starlight)_

_I have interrogated the prisoner with potential medical problems. As he seemed more eager than the others to talk, I hoped he might be willing to discuss their purpose or goals. He did, indeed, talk a great deal._

_Further interrogation required for the good of the kingdom. Will continue the interrogations myself. No need to bother the others._

_One (1) personal effect still on person after incarceration. At first I thought it fell Dwarf magic, but only a stone from Kili's mother. I do not believe it poses a danger, and so returned it to him._

_He is very odd. Perhaps not for a Dwarf, as I have never met a Dwarf before. He did not speak of gold, but of his mother and a red moon. Are these usual Dwarf topics?_

_-Capt. Tauriel_

Do you happen to know where Gandalf is? He could be a great help in this escape plan. He is very good at those.

Sincerely,

B. Baggins

_[Oct. 17th, 2941] I.S.T.A.R.I. analysis on report received from Baggins (Gandalf): Is everyone so oblivious._

Mr. Saruman,

I have followed the Elf with the keys. We are in a cellar! This is no good at all.

Whoever would need so much wine? There are so many empty barrels! If a Hobbit party went through the home-brew this quickly, there would be a terrible number of aching heads in the morning! I suppose Elves do not get hangovers, though. It is certainly difficult to imagine.

Oh! He has put the keys on a hook! I could take them so very easily! But I still do not know where to take the Dwarves once I unlock their cells...

Oh.

Please do excuse me, I must hurry.

Sincerely,

B. Baggins

_[Oct. 17th, 2941] I.S.T.A.R.I. analysis on report received from Baggins (Gandalf): Couldn't they stay locked up for an entire day. Is that too much to ask for._

Mr. Saruman,

You should have seen the excitement when I appeared holding the keys! Everyone was terribly pleased to see me! And it did my heart good to usher them all out of those little cells. Dwarves do not belong in cages. They are such a proud people.

Proud enough to argue with the very person who let them out! Well, I should not be surprised. Still, the way they stomped after me was quite loud enough! They didn't need to bicker on top of it! I thought the entire palace was bound to hear. It would serve them right to be tossed back in. No, no, I do not truly mean that. I just said it is sad to see them imprisoned. It is only that it wouldn't hurt to be a little more grateful, would it?

And now we our in the cellars! Almost out! The Elves I saw earlier are still here, but they are fast asleep. We might actually get away!

"I don't believe it, we're in the cellars!" That was Kili.

Oh, now he's set them all off.

I am trying to shush them, but of course that isn't working, so I've finally just ordered everyone to climb into the empty barrels.

They don't want to do that, either.

Thorin, bless his heart, does trust me. "Do as he says!" Thank you, Thorin! For that, I'm making sure he gets the most comfortable barrel.

Bofur wants to know what they are supposed to do now, but we really haven't time for long explanations. So I've simply told them to hold their breath and pulled the lever. And they're out!

Wait. What about me?

Sincerely,

B. Baggins

_[Oct. 17th, 2941] I.S.T.A.R.I. analysis on report received from Baggins (Gandalf): Gandalf would have done it with more fire._

* * *

**Everyone knows the firstborn get terrible hangovers. They just pretend they don't.**


End file.
